Embers in the Dawn (Ongoing)

Chapter 2: Violet Eyes, and Raven Hair

"Fasae you say?" the innkeeper pondered as he polished a copper flagon with a questionably clean rag.
"We get a few of those pointy eared buggers out her from time to time sure, but usually they tend to be off just as soon as they came. You know those elf folk, always in a hurry to be where they have to go" he chuckled as he tossed the rag onto the counter between them

The Inn was crowded, surprisingly so for such a small town. The sounds of conversation and dice filled the wooden walls, the sharp notes of a showman's flute cutting through the cacophony in quick melodic bursts. A group of mine workers, very far into their cups were singing along with the tune.
A rather bluntly worded song of a man coming home to his wife, and bedding her after a long day of cracking stone.
The crowd was mostly made up of Menfolk, with a few squatty dwarves scattered throughout. Unfortunately though, the Innkeeper spoke truly. These mountain towns usually attracted dwarves and menfolk alike with the prospect of work in mines, and trade in craft. But seldom did an Elf find a place such as this to be comfortable. Far too cold, far too noisy.

"This fasae boy would have been easily noticed in a place like this" Verick observed wiping foam from his beard. "Dark black hair, and deep violet eyes. He had a big painted mare with him as well. He's a runaway you see, would have had to stop to get that horse of his something to eat, would have needed some himself too" He added before gulping down another draught of the thick dark ale.

"Well well then Violet eyes aye? Painted mare hmm?" The innkeeper puzzled for a moment, scratching his head.
"Suppose I may have seen a lad with a hood pass through here last night. Didn't get a look at his hair or eyes though, seemed pretty reserved, didn't ask for much, didn't seem all too interested in anything to be fair, just sat over there in that little window seat there. He may have had a lady with him... or was he alone? Oh well you see I was preoccupied with the regulars, and as I said I hardly got a good look at the lad... Sorry to tell you friend, but I know perhaps less than you do. Give us a yell if you need anything else." the innkeeper finished with a shrug before waddling off to tend to another patron sitting down the bar.

The trail seemed to get colder by the day. Since he arrived in Fishtown Verick had hardly learned anything he didn't already know. The boy had made it here, that was for sure, and a painted mare had been seen resting in the barn near the Inn, but no one could agree on the owner.
"A little dwarven lad, only about a hundred and five years I bet he was! Light brown hair and deep green eyes!" a fishmonger had said
"No not dwarven! A skinny fair skinned man, big brooding blue eyes!" a tailor had disagreed
"Dwarven?! Man? No you have it all wrong, it was a Fair Fasae maiden she was! Maroon eyes and silver hair she had!" The baker's wife interjected.
When Verick had stopped by the Blacksmith's to ask if he had recognized the horseshoe nail, and asked if he had perhaps helped shoe any horses recently, he only learned the burly man cared little for the comings and goings of his customers, and even less in remembering their faces.

"Cold trails just get colder" the old hunter said with a sigh as he stared into the bubbling black liquid in his mug.

"Purple eyed Elf you looking for then I hear?" A scruffy dwarf in a soot-stained apron mumbled, resting his chin on his clay pint mug. His tangled blonde beard dangled down into the cup, and soaked in the black ale.
"Say someone saw this boy of yours, maybe they'd be willing to tell more if a nice stranger was friendly enough. A drink or two might loosen their tongue" he finished with a hoarse chuckle.
From the look of him, he had a few drinks already, and a few more might loosen more than just his tongue.
"Friendly people can be hard to come by" Verick responded with a sideways glance
"Money for drink can be hard to come by too. Maybe the friendly stranger would loosen up his purse if he knew his money wouldn't be wasted"

"Pinchpennies all of you" the dwarf spat in between gulps.
"For folk who live so short you hold onto coins as tight a boy busting for a piss holds his prick!"

Amused, Verick turned to face the dwarf at his side.
"I have my doubts you'd be able to tell much about what you saw last night, nor even what you saw an hour ago. As far into that mug as you seem I doubt you saw anything but those fat brows drooping down into your eyes. I'd have better luck asking the horses outside."

"Ah no respect for elders these days from your kind!" the dwarf laughed loudly, spitting as he talked
"See nothing did I? Ohhh right, just my fat brows drooping for true! Into my mug as I may have been even I could see how that Blacksmith's girl was taken with him, oh aye, even as a drunk fool as I may be, even I could notice her giggling and batting her eyes at that vagabond! How she ate up his poor runaway act. The bugger sneaks in here with the girl, hood drawn, and sets up shack over there by the window, then slinks off with her to the barn in the dead of night! Why he-"
The dwarf, stopped just before he was about to begin another slurred rant, closing his lips tight underneath his bushy moustache.